Three of a Kind
by Sekhem
Summary: Chapter the Sixth: In Which Roy and Gracia Have Breakfast, and Maes Hughes Impersonates the Undead. This series is rated T, just to be on the safe side.
1. Flying Start

Off to a Flying Start

by Sekhem

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This is partially inspired by my piece, _Fifty Sentences, _specifically, the part with Hughes and Gracia. The series doesn't go into their history, so this is pretty much all conjecture.

Let me know what you think. Reviews are, as always, appreciated, and flames will be directed to the appropriate alchemist.

Since I'm still not Hiromu Arakawa, I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or the associated characters and situations. Those are still safe in the hands of Square Enix in Japan, and Funimation Productions here in the U.S.

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"Run for it!"

Gracia Stern had been on her way to history class, keeping one eye on the footpath and one on her history book as she went, when she heard the shout from behind her. She barely had time to lower the book and turn her head to look, when she found she'd been picked up and was being carried by one of the boys from the military academy that shared grounds with the university.

"Sorry, babe," he panted, "but those guys on the rugby team do not play well with others."

"If you'd just kept your mouth shut, Hughes," the shorter of the two, a boy who might have been at least partially Xingese, growled, "we wouldn't be in this mess."

"If you hadn't stolen that guy's girlfriend, there wouldn't have been anything to say," Hughes shot back.

"Which one?" the shorter one asked with a smirk.

Gracia risked a peek over Hughes' shoulder and immediately whished she hadn't. It looked like the entire starting lineup was after them. "How many of those guys' girlfriends did you steal?" she demanded.

"Do you want your answer alphabetically or categorically?" Hughes asked. His friend death-glared at him, but he was oblivious. "Better come clean, Roy," he said. "She's involved now, you know."

"Only because you had to literally sweep her off her feet," he growled. "Dammit, Maes, we're running for our lives here."

Hughes shifted his grip on her, and she instinctively tightened her hold around his neck. "The Arakawa Building," she said after a moment. "I have a class there in about ten minutes. You can hide there."

"Which building is it?" Roy asked.

"It's the one up here one the left, with the ivy on the wall," she said.

They veered to the left and barreled through the entrance and past a pair of astonished-looking professors who'd probably be demanding answers from her later. Hughes set her down gently, and he and his companion proceeded to barricade the front doors with what little furniture they could find in the hallway.

That done, Hughes turned to her and sketched an elaborate bow. "You are a queen among women, milady," he said. "I...what do I call you, anyway?"

"Gracia Stern," she said, and on impulse, curtsied.

"I'm Maes Hughes," he said, "and my sulky friend over there is Roy Mustang."

Roy nodded a perfunctory greeting as he threw his weight against the door.

"Well, it was a pleasure meeting both of you," she said, "but I have to get to class." She started in the direction of the classroom, turned, and smiled. "Good luck with the mob."

Hughes beamed back at her and waved goodbye as he went to help Roy.

_I'll probably never see them again, but they were entertaining, _she thought with just a tinge of regret. She ducked into the auditorium and into her usual seat just as the professor walked in and started passing out the exams.

Half an hour later, in the middle of an essay question about the Caledonian Uprising of 1604, she realized she was still smiling.

The End...for now.


	2. A Little Idle Talk

This is the second in the series of shorts focusing on Hughes, Gracia, and the history of their relationship. I know there's a series similar to that here on this site, but this one's going to be different. While I can read angst, I can't write it.

As always, I am not Hiromu Arakawa, and all I own of FMA are my copies of the manga and the series.

Let me know what you think. All praise and constructive criticism will be deeply appreciated, and all flames will be redirected to the appropriate alchemist. Thank you.

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A Little Idle Talk...

by Sekhem

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Gracia's roommate, Anita, knew just about everything about everybody, so she had been the one Gracia asked, "What do you know about Maes Hughes and Roy Mustang?"

Anita had been draped across her bed, staring blankly at her Xingese philosophy book, but at that, she sat up and looked at Gracia intently. "Why do you want to know?"

"Well..." To her horror, she felt her face starting to get warm. "I...just...I've seen them around campus and heard their names and..."

"Uh-uh." Anita shook her head. "The way you're acting, Gracie, there's more to it than that. A lot more."

"Well..." Gracia quickly filled her in on the events of the afternoon, beginning with Hughes picking her up and ending with her leaving them to go to her class.

Anita stared at her for a moment after she'd finished. "Lucky."

"So I gathered," Gracia said dryly. "But what can you tell me about them?"

"If you want birthdays and blood types, I can't help you," she said, "but I can tell you the gossip."

And tell she did. If the rumors were to be believed, the two of them had been partners in a whole series of pranks the past year, and were supposedly responsible for the herd of goats that had turned up in the academy commandant's office at the end of last year. There was nothing that could be proven, but their involvement was common knowledge.

"That was them?" she said. Hughes and Mustang had been fleeing for their lives that afternoon – they'd said so themselves – and given the state they'd been in, she wouldn't have thought they could organize a game of euchre, let alone the practical joke of the year.

"Believe it, Gracia," she said. "Those two are trouble with a capital T."

And there was more. Apparently, they both had reputations as ladies' men, Mustang especially. That she could believe. If his and Hughes's argument was anything to go by, he had a whole line of girls and scandals to his name. And no wonder. The brooding-and-intense type was practically catnip to most of the girls she knew. Hughes, on the other hand, seemed to be the one who got his heart broken nine times out of ten, and generally through no fault of his own.

"Supposedly..." Anita lowered her voice to a stage whisper. "Supposedly, Mustang managed to steal the girlfriends of the entire rugby team at one point or another, even. Can you imagine?"

She could, now that she remembered the details of the argument the two of them had been having. "That explains the mob, then..." she said faintly.

"Really?" Anita purred, then brightened up. "So, which one?"

Gracia blinked. "Which one what?"

"You obviously like one of these guys," she said, "so which one is it? Mustang, right?"

Gracia blushed scarlet this time. "I barely said two words to him!' she sputtered.

"Ah, so it's Hughes, then." Anita smiled knowingly. "Mrs. Gracia Hughes. Not a bad ring to it."

"Anita!" She picked up the first thing she could lay hands on – her old teddy bear – and threw it at her roommate. The rest of the discussion was lost in a pillow fight.

- 0 -


	3. Making Mischief

Sorry this has taken so long. I've been working on a longer, more serious story set within this timeline and, unfortunately, been neglecting everything else. I've got several pieces sketched out, but they need to be fleshed out.

Once again I am not Hiromu Arakawa, and nothing of Fullmetal Alchemist is mine. The characters and situations aren't mine.

Let me know what you think. Feedback and constructive criticism are welcome, and flames will, as always, be directed to the appropriate alchemist.

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Making Mischief

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Gracia had nearly forgotten her run-in with Hughes and Mustang when she saw it a few weeks later. It was a small block of writing on the bathroom wall, near the far sink. It read, "For a good time, call Maes Hughes," and listed a phone number.

Hughes...

The name brought back the memory of green eyes behind rectangular lenses and strong arms supporting her as he ran. She made a note of the number, finished brushing her teeth, and marched back to her room with a most uncharacteristic smirk on her face.

Her roommate watched curiously as she sat at her desk, picked up the phone, and dialed the number. "Armstrong Residence Hall. Can I help you?"

"I need to speak to Maes Hughes, please," she said.

"Just a sec. He and Mustang are right here." The cadet on the other end must have covered the receiver, because his voice was muffled. "Yo! Four-eyes! Call for you!"

There was a sound of scrabbling as the phone was passed over. "Hello?"

"Hello, Maes," she purred, using what Anita had once dubbed her sex-kitten voice.

"Um...who is this...?"

"Don't tell me you've forgotten," she mock-pouted. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Anita starting to convulse with silent laughter. "And after the ride you gave me on the quad a few weeks ago. We had quite the audience, too..."

His reply was a strangled whimper and a clatter, as if he'd dropped the phone. A moment later she heard someone else pick it up.

"Hello?"

"Who is this, and what the hell did you do to my roommate?" a baritone voice demanded. "It looks like you broke his brain."

"I..."

"I didn't even think he had a brain to break," he continued, as if she hadn't said anything.

"Is he going to be all right?"

"Yeah. I just have to take him down to the pool and throw him in the deep end. The idiot."

"I'm sorry, I had no..."

"Listen, whoever you are, meet me in front of the academy barracks in ten minutes."

Gracia blinked. "To..."

"Throw him in the pool," he said. "Somebody has to make sure he doesn't drown."

"I'll bring my suit." She hung up the phone and started digging through her dresser drawer.

"Well?" Anita had gotten enough of a grip to stop laughing, but was still grinning.

Gracia found her suit under a stack of sweaters and grabbed a clean towel and her jacket. "I don't believe it," she said as she ducked out the door. "I broke Maes Hughes's brain."

She could still hear Anita's cackle on her way down the stairs.

-0-


	4. A Pooling of Resources

Finally. At long last. The next part of the story. You wouldn't believe how freaking difficult this was to write. I ignored this story for a while and wrote around it, hoping that something would come, with nothing happening. I set the whole bloody series aside, hoping something would come. Again, nothing. The blank computer screen mocked me, as did the blank sheet of paper. I finally got a start about a month and a half ago, and it took me this long to hammer it into something that might (I hope!) make you laugh for the right reasons.

With luck, from here on in I'll be posting a little more often than once in a blue moon after this.

I've also been working on a longer, somewhat more serious story in this series that I may eventually post on its own. At the moment, though, that's still in development hell.

As always, the characters and situations associated with Fullmetal Alchemist are not mine. They belong to Hiromu Arakawa and her publishers. I'm only borrowing them for a little while.

Feedback is always welcome, and I'll use any flames that come my way to cook with. Please...let me know what you think.

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A Pooling of Resources

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Roy Mustang was not a happy camper. He had better things to do than babysit his temporarily insane roommate and wait for the mystery woman who'd turned his brains to tapioca. He had a tactics exam Wednesday he had to study for, a military history paper to write, and the State Alchemy exam to prepare for. He just flat-out didn't have time for this.

So when the girl from a few weeks ago came jogging up, he was more than tempted to just walk away. "Just what are you doing here?" he asked.

She blushed faintly. "We spoke on the phone," she said. "I'm the one who broke your roommate." Broke, indeed. Hughes was still quite cheerfully out of it, with no sign of coming back yet. "You said something about throwing him in the pool?"

"Hnh." He folded his arms and did his best to hide his annoyance. "Let's go."

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Gracia was all too aware of Roy Mustang's eyes on her as she dove into the pool, and was grateful she'd taken her aunt's advice and bought the one-piece swimsuit. She was reasonably sure he'd been mentally undressing her from the minute she'd left the locker room.

Hughes, meanwhile, still looked like a happy concussion victim...right up until the moment Roy shoved him into the water – boots, uniform, and all.

That, she noticed, was more than enough to bring him back to his senses. He surfaced with a yell and glared somewhat myopically at Roy. "What the hell did you do _that_ for?"

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Maes," Roy said. He caught Gracia's eye and a slow smirk crossed his face. "As for why...just turn around." Gracia recognized a cue when she heard one, and swam over to him. She positioned herself behind him, and started treading water.

Hughes grumbled something about not being able to see five feet in front of him, but still did as Roy asked. He squinted at her, did a double-take, then backed off to give her more room. "Um...hi..." he began, "...Miss Gracia, I..."

"Hmm...?" Her eyes narrowed and she moved closer.

"I...I think my glasses are on the bottom of the pool," he muttered. "Right now you're one big blur. I'm lucky I can see anything right now."

"That'll teach you to fall for every pretty face that crosses your path," Roy said. "Seriously, Maes, I think you ought to..."

As Roy started...pontificating, for want of a better word, Gracia ducked underwater and found the lost glasses. Maes made a show of polishing the lenses, then put them back on and grinned at her. He moved to climb out of the water, but found Roy was blocking the ladder.

"Roy..."

"... serious girlfriend and you'll settle down..."

"Roy!"

He tried climbing up the side of the ladder, but couldn't quite get out of the water from that angle.

"...stop chasing after every girl who looks sideways at you,.."

Maes started to protest again, then shook his head. He looked at Gracia, mimed something falling at a ninety-degree angle, then pointed back at Roy. She grinned back, and nodded. She grabbed one of Roy's legs, Maes grabbed the other, and they pulled him into the deep end.

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The resulting water fight endeed with the three of them fleeng the scene before campus security could be called. Those who knew them and were aware of what came later would mark it as the beginning of a long and interesting friendship...among other things.


	5. Blood, Sweat, and Tears

Let me check....

Nope, I'm still not Hiromu Arakawa, and they're still not mine.

Just to give you fair warning, from here on in, things are going to be a shade random, and I'll be posting them as the ideas come to me. This is one of the ones I wrote while I was struggling to write the last one. There will be a few short series, but those will be marked.

Let me know what you think. I look forward to hearing from you.

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Blood, Sweat, and Tears

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Gracia had not expected to see either Maes Hughes or Roy Mustang that afternoon. She was volunteering for the school's semi-annual blood drive, and neither of them had expressed any kind of interest in donating. So it was with no fair amount of surprise that she found Roy sitting at a table in the recovery area snacking on a plate of cookies and drinking orange juice.

"Hello, Gracia," he said calmly. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"I could say the same thing about you," she said, sliding in to the chair next to his. "I didn't know you'd be here."

"You mean I can't do my part to help my fellow soldiers on the front line?" He took a drink and smirked. "Gracia, I'm scandalized."

"I didn't mean it that way, Roy," she said. "If I'd known you were here, I'd have stopped and said hello while you were donating."

Roy snickered at that. "Oh, you only wish you had been."

"Oh, why?"

"I'll give you one word. Hughes."

"...Hughes," she repeated. "As in Maes."

By now he was grinning. "Look behind the curtain."

The curtained area was for the poor souls who'd passed out while they were donating. If that was the case...

She went through the curtains and saw Maes sitting up on one of the cots and looking around muzzily. He fumbled for a moment, then put his glasses back on. "Gracia...?"

She sat down at his side and curled her fingers around his wrist. "Well, you're alive," she said. "That's something. How's your head?"

"I know I'm supposed to be dizzy," he muttered, "but is my head supposed to ache?"

"It's the blood loss," she said. "Some food and a few hours' sleep, you'll be fine."

"With a pretty nurse to keep me company?" he asked hopefully.

She couldn't help but smile. "We'll see," she said. "I'm surprised that Roy's doing as well as he is. He's acting like nothing's happened."

"Roy didn't give blood," he said. "He hates needles."

Her smile became a rictus, and her eyes narrowed. "Does he, then?"

"Yeah," he said. "He tried giving blood a couple of years ago, when we were both first old enough, and he fainted before the needle even touched him."

"Really."

Something in her voice made him raise his head, and what he saw gave him pause. Normally, he thought she had a beautiful smile, but this one was downright demonic. "Um, Gracia, what are you planning?"

The rather disturbing expression disappeared before he could say anything else, replaced by a surprisingly sunny smile. "Oh, nothing." She squeezed his hand and got to her feet. "I'll see you later," she said gently, then turned to leave.

"Gracia..."

"Don't worry, Maes," she said, "I'll let him live." As the curtian fell closed behind her, he could hear her calling in her best come-hither voice, "Oh, Roy..." and it occurred to him that she never said what shape Roy would be in when she was done with him.

-0-

AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you're interested in actually giving blood, or if you've never donated before and want to, get in touch with your local chapter of the Red Cross, or your local hospital for information.


	6. Grey Dawn of Morning

At long last, a new chapter. I have several pieces written but they're out of order and I've just been trying to fill in the blanks. Unfortunately, these three are a lot harder to write than you'd think at times. Oddly enough, though, this one took me about half an hour to write, with an extra hour for editing.

Go fig.

We get to see in the next few just what Gracia's revenge from the last chapter was. This is just the lull before the storm.

As always, the characters and situations associated with Fullmetal Alchemist are not mine. I'm only borrowing them for a little while.

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Morning Meetings

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"Why, Roy Mustang," Gracia Stern drawled in an atrocious southern accent as her friend set his tray down across from her, "are you trying to get me alone?"

Roy dropped into his seat and stared at her incredulously for a moment. "That has to be the worst accent I've ever heard," he said. "What gave you that impression?"

"I thought," she said, grinning at him over the rim of her coffee cup, "that I was having breakfast with you and Maes."

He took a bite of his eggs, paled, and pushed the tray away. "That was the plan, yes," he said. "By the way, don't try the eggs. I just found a beak."

Gracia nodded and jabbed at her own plate, only half-surprised that the food didn't try to grab her fork. "So, where's Maes?" she asked. "This was his idea, after all."

Roy scanned the dining hall for a moment, then started counting down on his watch. "...Three...two...one...and there he is."

A tall figure in a cadet's uniform lurched across the room towards them, precariously balancing a tray and somehow managing not to spill anything or walk into anyone.

All Gracia could do was stare. "Is that...?"

Roy smirked, an expression she would come to be very wary of in the future. "Oh, yeah..."

"...Maes...?" she said as the zombie in question dropped the tray on the table, then dropped into the chair next to her.

"I must have forgotten to mention that he isn't a morning person," Roy said as his friend toppled face-first onto the table and started to snore.

-0-


End file.
